Hamish S Watson
by Superwholock is my game
Summary: John and Sherlock have been dating for about three months now, and they are quite happy, but what happens when John's ex-girlfriend from when he was deployed in Afghanistan turns up dead. With a shocking twist. Johnlock, Slight Mystrade. M/M action in later chapters. Please be nice with the reviews and such, this is my first Fanfic, EVER. Enjoy. :)
1. Chapter 1: Surprise :)

Rating: M Johnlock smut. M/M  
Description: Sherlock and John have been dating for about three months now, and they are quite happy, but what happens when John's ex-girlfriend from when he was in Afghanistan turns up dead?  
Disclaimer: a vast majority of the characters are sadly owned by BBC. :(

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Awesome story right here,

s/9163082/1/I-m-coming-home

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"John, could you hand me the cultures?" Sherlock asks, he was sitting at the kitchen table looking through the microscope at something or another.

"Which, one do you want?" John asks picking up a few to look at the ones underneath.

"The one that is labeled J1STI" Sherlock says glancing at John. John just handed Sherlock the culture when his phone went off. John checked it.

"Sherlock we got a case. A woman murdered, they have the suspect, a fifteen year old girl, covered in the victim's blood. The girl refuses to speak and is putting up a fight; they want us there to help prove that she is the killer." John says reading off the text.

"Eh, 6" Sherlock says not even looking up. That got john a bit mad.

"A teenager is involved with a murder; you are going or no sex for a week." John says flatly.

"You wouldn't." Sherlock says in his deducing voice, still not looking up.

"Yes I will." John says "actually…," John trails off. He places his hands on Sherlock's shoulders and starts to kiss his neck. Right under his jaw. John has learned that if you stay sucking at this one spot for about ten seconds or so...

"Jooohn~," Sherlock says letting out a breathy moan.  
"Mm?" John asks now licking up and down Sherlock's jaw line.

"What a-are~ youuu d-doing~?" Sherlock moans.

"Nothing," john says pulling away and walking towards the door.

"Wha? What are you doing!? You can't…, you can't just do that!" Sherlock exclaims while whining.

"Well are you coming? We'll finish this after we go to the crime scene." John says with a slight smirk while buttoning up his coat, and throwing Sherlock his own coat. "Let's go." John says waiting at the door as Sherlock gets his coat on and walks pass john while mumbling some impolite things.

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~~~At the crime scene~~~

"What happened to you?" John asks, they got to the crime scene with quite a bit of unhappy mumbling. They went up to Lestrade who was badly beaten up. He had a black eye that looked like it wasn't quite done forming yet, his lip was badly split, and he also had a bloody nose and quite a few bruises all over his torso. Some were still forming.

"The suspect attacked when we were looking at the body, pretty sure she broke Anderson's wrist and arm." Lestrade explains.

"I like this child already." Sherlock mutters. His mood getting much better because, of Anderson's dilemma, and usual uselessness.

"Just look at the body, Sherlock," Lestrade sighs pointing in the direction the body is in. "And John, the girl hurt herself pretty badly, would you take a look at her for me please?"

"Sure," John says motioning at Lestrade to take the lead. They walk up to one of the police cruiser in which has a pretty pissed off teenager in the back. The teen was about 5'3 with dirty blonde hair, much similar to Johns', and she has hazel eyes. The young teen looked about 16 years of age. Her whole body was covered in blood. Literally from head-to-toe. Donavan was in the police cruiser with her trying, and failing to get the girl to talk.

"Donavan how's it going so far?" Lestrade asked rapping on the door of the cruiser.

"Yes sir well… she still refuses to talk, the only thing I've gotten from her is the middle finger so..." she trails off.

"Let John talk to her now, she might still be in shock about what happened." Lestrade says opening the door to let John and Donavan switch places. John takes a good look at the girl and gulps slightly.

"I heard you broke an agents wrist," John starts slowly, this girl didn't look like one who could've hurt anyone, she looked really scared. "Erm…, never mind…, umm would you mind stepping out of the  
cruiser for me please. I'm a doctor and I would like to make sure that you're all right." John says, he sits there awkwardly until the girl nods her head slowly and starts to move towards the door to be let out; her hands are cuffed behind her back, so she is unable to do much. John gets out of the car and opens the door for the girl. She slides out with ease. Lestrade and Donavan were now walking over to the crime scene, making sure Sherlock didn't make anyone cry. "I'm Doctor John Watson," John introducing himself to the girl. At the mention of his name she stops and looks at him. This makes John uncomfortable until she speaks.

"Doctor John Hamish Watson, was an army doctor over in Afghanistan sixteen years ago, while deployed you met a young woman, Amelia Kinsey, she was an American journalist. Also the same woman who was  
found murdered today," the girl states, she mumbled something else but John didn't quite catch it.

"Erm, yes, yes indeed, how did you know all that?" John hadn't thought about Amelia in years, the last time they were together was the last time john had shagged a woman over there.

"She's my-" the girl starts but stop mid-sentence when Sherlock comes over.

"John I've got the keys to the cuffs from Lestrade, this young woman didn't kill Amelia," Sherlock says sighing "did you know when I was 20 I helped her escape certain death, she was about six months pregnant at that time, no doubt with this young woman." Sherlock says smiling, looking at the teen, his smile slowly fades as he looks from John to the teen. "John did you know Amelia while deployed?" Sherlock asks suddenly.

"I did," John says slowly.

"Please tell me you didn't shag her?" Sherlock says with an almost plea sound hinting at his voice.

"I did," John repeats getting confused.

"Did you use protection?" Sherlock asks

"Sherlock it was nearly sixteen years ago why does it oh, OH!" he says looking at the teen. "No, I, she said, No." John mumbles in disbelief.

"Yeah, John time meet your daughter." Sherlock says wrapping his arm around John's waist, the man had gone unnaturally pale started to sway and Sherlock was afraid that he would fall over. "What's your name?" Sherlock asks the teen.

"Hamish S Watson-Kinsey." The teen answers softly.

"What does the S. Stand for?" Sherlock asks.

"It stands for Sherlock, after the man who saved my mother from certain death when she was pregnant with me." Hamish answers shyly. She didn't know how to react; here she was after just watching her mother die, in the presence of the two men she was named after.

"I need to sit," John says launching himself towards the cruiser, and sitting in the passenger seat. Once he sat he put his head in his hands, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was a father, a dream that he gave up, the second he joined the army.

"John?" Sherlock says attentively, "are you going to be okay?"

"Mm? I, just. God."

"Everything okay over here?" Lestrade asks worry written all over his face.

"Yes everything is fine John just got some...Rather shocking news." Sherlock explains

"Care to tell me what this shocking news is?" Lestrade asks, still rather worried.

"John?" Sherlock asks his voice surprisingly small.

"I'm I'm a dad," John says still pretty shocked "I've been a dad for sixteen years and I didn't even know it!" He says his voice getting louder and louder.

"Fifteen and nine months." Hamish says her voice sounding small compared to Johns ever raising voice.  
"I, need some time alone," John says launching up from the cruiser and walking towards the road pretty quickly. Sherlock looks at Lestrade then Hamish, Lestrade smiles and nods. Sherlock took his cue and followed after his lover.

"You okay?" Lestrade asks putting his arm reassuringly around Hamish's shoulders. He wouldn't say anything but he saw her flinch when John stood up. An obvious sign she's been abused in the past.

"Yeah, I'm, I'm sorry for hurting you earlier." Hamish says quickly bowing her head in shame.

"It's nothing, you hit like a girl by the way" he says teasing her. In truth his whole body hurt, he hasn't been beaten that badly in years.

"Sorry. Who will I be going to stay with?" She asks softly.

"Well..." Greg says trailing off as his phone interrupts his thought process.

***To Greg  
Bring her to Mycroft's I'll try to get John to calm down,  
bring her to the house tomorrow around eleven, everything should be  
good then.  
From Sherlock***

"I'll bring you to a very nice man, he'll take care of you till tomorrow, John needs some time to get everything ready for you" Lestrade responds.

"Will you or Sherlock be there with me?" Hamish asks softly. At that moment Lestrade realized that even though thus girl did in fact beat the living shit out of him just an hour before, she had just lost her mother and her newly found dad didn't react to well to her presence, she must feel terrible.

"I'll be with you, in fact I'm bringing you to my boyfriend's house, and Sherlock's older brothers house"

"Is that the same person?" She asks

"Yeah, it is." A few moments later a long black limo pulls up to the crime scene and Anthea gets out and ushers Lestrade and Hamish into the car.

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Reviews will be lovely, If you have an idea that you would like to see happen, Message me, I don't bite...Much :). Once again Reviews, Any kind, if they are mean, nice make me cry, I DON'T care. I also might kinda need Ideas, So...Please.


	2. Chapter 2: Mycroft is rich, Who knew?

~~Chapter 2~~

*Hamish's POV*

I had gotten into the car with Lestrade. Normally I wouldn't have but, I don't know, I just got the feeling that I could trust him. We rode in silence for a good ten minutes before Lestrade spoke up.

"Do you have any belongings?" He asks looking up from his phone that he's been texting on for about five minutes.

I shake my head no. The only thing that I had to my name anymore were the bloody clothing on my back, and the dog tags that belonged to my first step-dad around my neck

"Is a tee-shirt and blue jeans okay?" He asks reading off of his phone.

I once again nod my head yes.

"Anything else in particular that you'll need?" He asks.

I chew on my lip and look down at my shoes while thinking if I needed anything else. Wow my shoes are caked in blood. "Sneakers" I reply. My shoes are ruined beyond repair.

"Yeah, I figured that," Lestrade chuckles, looking up for a split minute from his phone to take a glance of my shoes. I laugh quietly while looking down. His expression was priceless. He's looking at my shoes as if they had just killed somebody. When I look back up, he's back on his phone. I roll my eyes. "Tomorrow, I'll bring you to the station so you can give your report of what happened, then I'll get one of my officers to take you shopping and then you'll be brought over to John's flat." He explains.

"I don't have any money though," I respond.

"Oh no worries, Mycroft is giving you three hundred Euros for clothing and a pair of new sneakers."

"Oh, I couldn't take that much money, I only need about fifty or so," I respond. Was he crazy, he wants to give me three hundred for clothing and shoes? Who in their right mind does that? And for someone they don't even know too.

"Oh I'm sure he won't mind, he has a lot of money to spare." Lestrade says pocketing his phone.

"How long do I have to pay him back?" I ask thinking, ok so if I get a job now, I'll probably be able to pay him back in about...

"Never. You don't have to pay him back, ever." Lestrade says. Looking me, trying to figure out why I had asked him that.

"Are you sure? I don't want to make trouble for him." I asked, wondering if he's lying to me only to make me squirm.

"He really doesn't care about that." He responds "Ah we're here." He says as we pull up to a mansion.

"I'm going to assume he's rich, correct?" I say staring in awe. That has got to be the biggest house I have ever seen and I mean it. "Is it just you two who live here?"

"Well…" he starts out, rubbing his neck as we start to walk up the path to the house. "I don't really live here, per say, I have my own flat."

I eye him critically. "When was the last time you were at your house?" I ask.

"Um... wow it's been a while, a long while actually." He says thinking.

"So, is it just you two who live here?" I repeat my question. Wanting a truthful answer.

"Yeah, every other month my kids stay with us. They're from my first marriage."

"Are they here now?" I ask nervously, I really didn't want to deal with anyone.

"No" Lestrade chuckles. We get to the door and it's swung open by a man in a three piece suit. The man looks very professional.

"Nice to meet you Miss Watson, I'm Mycroft Holmes." The man says moving to the side to let us in.

"Nice to meet you too Mr. Holmes, thank you very much for your kindness." I reply being polite.

"Please call me Mycroft, who knows sometime soon you'll be calling me Uncle." Mycroft says smiling.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here," Lestrade says closing the door. Mycroft leads us to a sitting room, that is bigger than any apartment I've ever lived in.

"Here's your pyjamas and Lestrade will show you to your room." Mycroft says handing me a shopping bag. FULL of clothing and it's not a small bag either.

"Thank you," I say amazed at the amount of clothing he gave me. "To my room then?" I ask Lestrade,

"Ah, yes. You will be on the second floor, you will have your own bathroom to." Lestrade says walking towards the stairs. We walk up the stairs and then along a pretty long hallway, he takes me into a pretty big room, it had a queen sized bed, a dresser and a mini-fridge in the corner.

"I'll be sleeping here?" I ask, I really loved the room but it was much too big, I really like smaller rooms. "It's huge!"

"Yes, well... the bathroom is over there, you probably want to take a shower, I'll get you tomorrow at eight for breakfast, then to the station we shall go."

"Ok, goodnight sir," I say heading towards the bathroom.

"Night Hamish, sleep tight," Lestrade says closing my door. I head over to the bed and take out a pair of pyjamas that were in there. It's a grass-green oversized tee shirt and a pair of dark-blue sweat pants. I grab these along with a pair of underwear and who ever bought these had a very sick sense of humor because they were the bright pink bikini bottom type. I head over to the bathroom, which surprise, surprise, was huge. I set the clean clothing on a pile on top of the sink, and walk over to turn the shower on. I make the water warm and once the shower was just right, I stripped out of the bloody clothing a put them on a pile near the door. Most of the blood had seeped through the clothing, so I was covered head to toe... in my mother's blood..., I really do miss her.

I take off the dog tags and place them on the toilet lid. I then get in the shower and begin to watch the water that was going down the drain turn from a bloody color to clear. Twenty minutes later and I'm out of the bathroom, dressed in my pyjamas, and laying the bed, thinking.

~~Third person POV~~

"She was born July 11, 1997, in a small hospital in Lebanon PA." Mycroft says, reading off of his phone. He'd set out to get as much information on Hamish as possible.

"Okay, so what does that prove?" Greg asks uncertainly.

"That she is indeed Amelia's daughter, but the father is still an unknown. A simple DNA test will be able to prove who he is." Mycroft says standing and going over to his desk.

"I think that her name kind of, well you know, says everything. Wouldn't you think?" Greg sighs, sitting down in his favorite chair.

"I just want to be sure, I'll get the sample, it will most likely be tomorrow morning at breakfast. I'll then send it to Sherlock for testing, I won't tell him though."

"Yeah, but Sherlock will figure it out." Greg points out.

"We'll still get the results." Mycroft reasons.

"If you want my DNA, you can just ask," Hamish says coming down the stairs.

"What's wrong?" Mycroft asks smiling.

"Couldn't sleep, I'm dead tired but, sleep won't meet me." Hamish says. "I wouldn't mind giving you some of my DNA, I really want to know for sure that John is my father."

"What did your mother say about your father?" Greg asks softly, trying to get a clue about who the father is.

"Not much, whoever she was dating at the time, was who I was supposed to call dad." Hamish says, she wouldn't say it, but the man who owned the dog tags that were around her neck, would forever be known as her 'real' dad. To Hamish, her dad wasn't determined by blood, it was determined by the actions and attitude they had towards her.

"Oh," Greg says softly.

"Well, if you were to give us a DNA sample, we could have the results by tomorrow, by the time you get to Sherlock's flat." Mycroft says opening one of the drawers to his desk and pulling out a test tube and cotton swab.

"Do you have random supplies all over the house?" Greg asks surprised.

"Here, swab your mouth, I assume you've had nothing to eat recently?" Mycroft asks, ignoring Greg's question.

"No, I haven't eaten recently." Hamish responds taking the cotton swab. She really hadn't eaten recently, in fact the last full meal she remembers having was about three weeks ago. She was kinda hungry now. Almost as hungry as a baby tiger.

As if reading her mind Greg asks, "When was the last time you've eaten?"

Hamish hands the cotton swab to Mycroft before answering Greg. "I last, um... I ate yesterday." Hamish responds, playing with the words. She did eat yesterday, a few crackers, but still it's not lying. She was still telling the truth.

"When was your last FULL meal?" Mycroft asks catching on to her play.

"Three weeks ago, give or take." Hamish responds hanging her head. Ashamed and embarrassed about being caught in her play on words.

"Well, we're going to fix that right away" Greg says, striding towards the kitchen, determined to make her a full meal. Greg made Hamish a grilled cheese with tomato soup to eat and when she was done they all went to sleep. Hamish fell asleep immediately due to the full stomach she had just gained. While Greg and Mycroft 'talked' for a bit before falling asleep in each other's arms.


	3. Chapter 3: A long day

~~~Chapter 3~~~  
*Hamish p.o.v.*

"Time to get up," I vaguely hear someone say, "Hamish, I'm not against dragging you out of bed." I hear the same voice again, this time something batted my foot.

"Five more minutes.", I mumble as I pull the blankets up to my chin, and barricade myself in them.

"Get up," I hear again, but this time the blankets are slowly being pulled off of me.

"I have made an alliance with the blankets, if I leave now I shall lose their trust forever." I respond tiredly cracking open an eye. When I do, I'm face to face with Greg.

"I haven't heard that one before, very creative... now get up.", he says ripping the blankets from the bed and off of me.

"Nooo~" I say, desperately trying to grab the blankets before I froze to death, it was cold up here. When I say cold I mean cold. I could become a human icy-pop.

"Breakfast is downstairs, get ready then come down." Greg says, walking down the stairs with the nice, comfy, blankets wrapped around him. Rude, I am going to steal those blankets back...maybe use them over at Johns house.

~~~~~~Third person p.o.v.*~~~~~

Hamish grudges down the stairs and walks into the kitchen, she's wearing a loose Three days Grace tee shirt and a pair of flare blue jeans.

"Nice to see you up." Mycroft says nibbling on a piece of toast.

"What's for breakfast?" Hamish asks, looking over at Greg. Glaring slightly. She's still a little upset about him taking her blankets.

"Sit down and I'll get it for you," Greg says standing up, totally ignoring the look Hamish's giving him, and asks "Do you like eggs and toast?"

"Yeah," Hamish responds and goes to sit at the table. Greg brings two dippy eggs and two pieces of toast and sets them down in front of her. He goes to sit down next to Mycroft who was on his phone.

"When did you leave the states?" Mycroft asks looking up from his phone.

"About... three days ago." Hamish answers before attacking her eggs.

"So you've been in England for three days?" Mycroft questions not watching her eat. It was obvious by the ways she was eating that she hadn't had much to eat in the past few days.

"No, we stopped in Ireland for the first two days, yesterday was the first day we were in England." Hamish explains her eyes starting to water, thinking about everything that had happened yesterday. She really misses her mom. It hurt her to think about how she would never see her mother again all because she's dead.

"Tell us about your mom," Mycroft says trying to get off the topic of the murder, "What made her come here?"

"The reason we came here was because she had just been diagnosed with stage three stomach cancer. The doctors said she only had a few more months to live." Hamish explains, dropping her fork and toast onto her plate. No longer hungry for anything. She feels as if anything else goes into her stomach it will end up on the table and the two other occupants that sit there.

"Oh, so she was here for…, what reason exactly?" Greg questions.

"To find my dad, and to tell him what's going on because my mom didn't want me going back into foster care."

"You were in foster care before?" Mycroft asks, looking up with a shocked expression. 'That must've been what those sealed files contained.' He thought to himself.

"Uh... yeah, well um... someone had said that she was a horrible parent, so I was sent into foster care for a bit." Hamish says looking down, fighting back tears. She really did not like talking about it. It really wasn't her mom's fault that her boyfriend at the time disliked children, a lot.

"How long is a bit?" Greg asks softly. Able to feel that she hated to talk about what happened.

"Two years." Hamish says her voice so soft... that Greg and Mycroft had to strain their ears because they almost didn't hear it.

"How old were you when you were taken from your mother?" Mycroft states, his voice almost void of emotion, but in reality he was just trying not to get attached. 'Caring wasn't an advantage,' he tells  
himself over and over again in his thoughts. Knowing that it's useless, he already cares way too much for Greg.

"Thirteen. I was just returned to her a month before we left to come here." Hamish says. "Shouldn't we be getting to the station soon?" Hamish asks, desperate to change the topic.

"No we still have... oh never mind. Do you have a coat?" Greg says looking at the clock that now read 8:58.

"I do," Hamish says, "it's in the living room." she answered. Ready to get moving and away from that awful topic.

"Yes, now get going, I could have Anthea bring you." Mycroft suggests, in a tone that's not that suggestive.

"Nah, I want to show Hamish here the sites before we go to the station. We're taking the long way." Greg says striding towards the living room. Hamish follows after she puts her dirty dishes in the sink. Mycroft sits there in his chair thinking for a bit 'Hamish is really well behaved, probably from being beaten so many times. She fears the consequences of not being behaved. It'll take some time before she gets used to being cared for.' Mycroft thinks standing up and texting Anthea telling her to bring the car around.

Hamish had a busy morning. After giving her statement at the police station she and Donaven, the same woman who she flipped off, went shopping. With Hamish apologizing for her rude behavior yesterday. Hamish had gotten a new pair of shoes and they were pure black (not the shiny type) combat boots that went about two inches below her knee. She ended up getting five tee shirts, five pair of flare jeans, and various other things, along with a new pair of sneakers. Right now Hamish was sitting in the passenger seat of Gregs' car, for the second time that day. They were heading to John and Sherlocks flat. Hamish was terrified and she had a ton of fears running through her head. The same ones she had when her mother told her that they were going to find her dad. What if he didn't care for her, and she had to fend for herself for the umpteenth time in three years? What if he tried to kill her, like mom's eighth boyfriend had tried to do? What if...

"We're here," Greg says smiling as the car pulled to a stop. "Don't worry, John was just in shock yesterday, he's a really great guy. Everything is going to be fine." Greg says, he's been watching her since she got in the car, he can tell she's trying to not show any of her fear. 'Poor girl, she's probably afraid that John will beat her or something.' He thought.

"I know, I saw that he's a nice guy yesterday, it's just that...," Hamish trails off, not sure how to explain her reasons.

"Okay, how about this, if you ever get scared that John will ever hurt you in any way, which I doubt will ever happen, just call or text me, ok?," Lestrade says trying to calm her fears "I wouldn't mind letting you stay with me until you felt safe again." He says putting a hand on Hamish's shoulder.

"How will I call you? I don't have your number, or a phone for that matter," Hamish responds. She knows already that Greg will protect her, no matter what.

"I'll get you a phone and bring it to you later today, okay?" Greg responds, he already knows that John will never lay a hand on Hamish. He's more worried about Sherlock experimenting on the girl.

"Okay," Hamish says smiling, "Thanks Gr- sir."

"You can call me Greg, I don't mind." Greg says smiling.

"Okay Greg." Hamish responds hesitantly.

"Sherlock~!" John moans. John was sitting in his chair worrying about everything that could go wrong with Hamish when Sherlock suddenly was sitting on his lap straddling him while kissing up and down his neck, with his long fingers gliding up and down his chest in slow sexual movements. "Sherrrr~~" John tried again, he could feel Sherlocks lips curl into a small smile on the bottom of his jaw.

"You need to relax~," Sherlock purrs, leaving Johns jaw to remove his 'purple shirt of sex' and Johns beautiful ( absolutely ugly, but hot on him) jumper.

"Sherlock, how can I, Hamish will be here and I ah~~~" John stops when Sherlocks lips find his right nipple and starts to give it a light suction. "Sto... aaahh... ppp~~" John moans out, knowing full well that he doesn't want it to stop any time soon. At that time, Sherlocks cell phone, that was in his shirt pocket that was now on the ground, went off.

"Damn phone!" Sherlock cusses, he usually doesn't but he hates it when he gets interrupted. He reaches down to grab his phone, causing John to gasp because of the friction, he fishes his phone out of the pile on the ground and reads the text,

*To: Sherlock~  
I'm bringing Hamish over in half an hour, please be  
dressed, I don't want to see... That again.  
From: Greg*

Sherlock reads this and chuckles, he remembers last time oh so very well. He and John were playing a fun 'game' at the kitchen table, and let's just say that's how Greg found out that they were dating.

"Who is it?" John asks, mad at being interrupted, even though a few minutes ago he was trying to reject Sherlocks touch.

"Greg says he'll be here in about half-an-hour, think we can finish by then?" Sherlock says, smiling suggestively. He just loved~ the way John looked when they were about to have sex. It was a sight to see and all his. Right now he was shirtless, showing off his tanned body along with his well-defined muscles that were in all of the right places. He had a tattoo on his hip of a hedgehog from when he was in the army. He rarely talked about it, but Sherlock knew the full story, it filled him with pride knowing that John trusted him enough to open up and talk about how and why he got the tattoo.

"Oi!" John says sitting straighter, he didn't want a repeat of last time. Greg couldn't look him in the eyes for two whole weeks after that happened. Hell... if he saw Greg standing over Mycroft, who was bent over a table and Greg was pounding into him, John wouldn't be able to look Greg in the eyes ever again, or Mycroft for that matter.

"Come on~~," Sherlock whined, he was still frustrated with what happened yesterday. John had lied, he told him that they would finish when they got home, and guess what, they got home and John went  
straight to bed. "We still haven't finished since yesterday~!" He continues to whine.

"Doesn't matter." John states, trying to get Sherlock off of him. "My daughter is coming soon, I don't want her to see this." John says gesturing at them. "Or hear anything for that matter." He mumbles under his breath, but loud enough for Sherlock to hear. Sherlock does hear and does like a kid when grumpy, mopes.

"I was going to come soon too, but you decided to stop and ruin the mood a bit." Sherlock says pouting. He then flings himself off of John and onto the couch, so his bare back was facing him.

"If I really wanted to kill the mood I would've told you to picture Greg and Mycroft going at it," Johns says knowing full well that once those words left his mouth a mental picture was forming in Sherlocks brain. What does John do then, he smirks slightly.

"Gross...," Sherlock moans, and then exclaims, "Why would you do that!" At that time they hear a knock at the door and Mrs. Hudson opening the door. Her voice carries up the stairs.

"Hello Gregory dear, Oh who's this?" Mrs. Hudson asks, Hamish no doubt. At the sound of his daughters voice John grabs his jumper off of the floor and puts it on.

"Hello Ma'am, I'm Hamish," they hear a faint voice answer.

"So polite..., are you the nice girl Sherlock was talking about?" Mrs. Hudson asks, no doubt ushering Greg and Hamish into her kitchen to feed them.

"Yes I am, as I'm sure they told you that I'll be living here, for a while," Hamish tells her.

"Of yes, they did tell me that. Cookie?" Mrs. Hudson asks, causing Sherlock to chuckle, she always has some type of sweet.

"Oh, thank you," Hamish says taking a cookie from the plate, no doubt being held by Mrs. Hudson. "These are delicious."

"Thank you so much Mrs. Hudson, I assume John is upstairs?" Greg voice carries.

"Yes, yes he is. Oh Greg, do you know why he came home so distressed yesterday?" Mrs. Hudson says worry in her voice.

"I do know, he got some... shocking news yesterday." Greg answers,

"Thank you again, Mrs. Hudson." Greg says walking up the stairs, praying to any god up there that John and Sherlock are fully clothed and at least three feet away from each other. 'For Hamish's sake,' he tells himself.


	4. Chapter 4: BOOM!

~~~~~~~~~~~Chapter 4~~~  
Greg is standing at the top of the stairs in 221b Baker street, Hamish was standing behind him with her two small suitcases in her hands.  
Greg opens the door, he's known Sherlock long enough to know that he won't bother with opening the door himself.

"Hey Greg, Hamish. Do you two want some tea?" John asks, when he hears the door open. Sherlock is on the couch shirtless pouting about something, his purple shirt bundled on the ground. John's standing in the kitchen making tea, there was a hickey starting to form on his neck, and his jumper is on backwards.

"Yeah, that would be lovely." Greg says mentally sighing. He now knows why Sherlock was pouting, 'I mean really they knew that I was going to bring Hamish over some time today' Greg thinks to himself.

"Where should I put my stuff?" Hamish asks, eying Sherlock and wondering how the man could stay warm while she was wearing three layers of clothing and still freezing. She knew what happened only minutes before, she notices it, she just doesn't care.

"Just put them next to the couch, we'll get you situated with everything later tonight." John says, poking his head out of his kitchen, smiling. Hamish puts her bags down next to the couch, still eying Sherlock.

"Okay, that's it, I give." Hamish says, still looking at Sherlock. At this outburst John and Greg visibly stiffen, terrified of what Hamish would say next, Hamish smiles inwardly at herself. "How are you not cold? I'm bundled like a polar bear, freezing, and your shirtless and not even shivering." She says, annoyed by this fact.

"I have all the necessary vitamins in my system to keep warm..., Iron and the such. Vitamins you are clearly missing, probably from all the  
meals you missed. Anorexic perhaps? No the egg on your shirt clearly states that when hungry and you have access to food, you eat. So that means you have went long periods of time without a full meal. Longest you've gone without eating a full meal? I'd say about three months, am I correct?" Sherlock deduces, just from looking at Hamish.

"That... that was amazing, but longest would be eight months." Hamish responds looking at Sherlock in awe. "How did you do that? In one  
glance too! You must be a genius, I'd say by your lack of social skills, graduated at twelve?" Hamish says, pulling the same trick on  
Sherlock.

"Eleven, and yourself?" Sherlock responds, sitting up on the couch and looking at Hamish fully now. Interested in how smart she is.

"Thirteen." Hamish responds, smiling. Happy to know that she isn't the only one with a very high IQ and graduated at an early age.

"Wait, you already graduated high school at thirteen?" Greg asks in shock. 'Well at least she's not another Sherlock. That would be scary'  
he thinks to himself.

"Yeah, would've went to college but, mom didn't want me waste my teenage years in college." Hamish explains.

'Yeah she'd much rather have you waste them in foster care,' Greg thinks to himself.

"Sherlock do you have the test results that Mycroft gave you?" Greg asks, changing the subject.

"Yes, and you really couldn't tell by the looks?" Sherlock says standing up (still shirtless) and going over to the kitchen, where John is making tea. "Come here," Sherlock says, looking at Greg.

"I'd rather not." Greg answers, getting a flashback of the time when he figured out that John and Sherlock were together.

"Oh, that was one time," John says "we're both... well I'm fully clothed and he's semi-clothed."

"What, may I ask, are you three talking about?" Hamish asks, she was watching the exchange between the three and she was confused, well not very, she was sure it had something to do with Greg walking in on John and Sherlock having sex. She may be young, but she's not as innocent as everyone else thinks.

"Oh, Greg walked in on John pounding into me on the table." Sherlock says bluntly.

"Sherlock!" Greg and John both yell at the same time. Getting a tint of red from a blush growing across their cheek bones and over the  
nose.

"Bet you couldn't look John in the eyes for a while after that?" Hamish says smiling at Greg, she felt bad for him.

"I'm amazed he can look me in the eyes now," John says, taking Hamish's reaction in stride, if she wasn't gonna be embarrassed neither would he.

"I really can't," Greg admits. "What are the results?" Greg says changing the subject, he can feel his face getting redder.

"Positive" Sherlock answers, holding on to a petri dish. "Obviously, not like her name points it out, or they way she looks so much like John." Sherlock says glancing at John then Hamish. "Same sandy colored hair, same face shape, Hamish's eyes are different, though, Hazel. Though there is a hint of grey. Strange. Their body type is different though that could just be because Hamish is so terribly underfed. Eight months is the longest you went without food... hm," Sherlock says stopping and thinking at this fact.

"Yes," Hamish answers, looking at Sherlock in absolute awe, amazed at how he can tell this, she is scared that he will be able to deduce her terrible secrets though.  
"Eight month's hm," Sherlock repeats. "You would probably be pretty hungry, only eating little snacks, half an apple here, a few crackers there, truly terrible." Sherlock says.

"Tea's ready," John says handing Hamish a cup, she takes it and sits down at the table. Greg takes his, but remains standing. Sherlock shrugs at his and sits down at his microscope, and getting a petri dish from the pile.

"That one isn't ready yet," Hamish says looking at the dish. "The third one down on the second pile is though." She says taking a sip of tea and making a face at the bitterness.

"Do you want some sugar?" John asks laughing at Hamish's face.

"That would be lovely," Hamish says holding out her cup so John could put some sugar in it.

"Better?" Greg asks when Hamish takes a sip of tea,

"Yeah, much." Hamish responds looking at Sherlock curiously. "If you graduated High school at eleven, then why are you only a consulting detective, for a force that doesn't even pay you." Hamish asks smiling slightly at the way Sherlock stiffens when she says it.

"I am the _only_ consulting detective," Sherlock states,

"Yeah, in Britain." Hamish adds seeing how many buttons she can push before Sherlock yells. She can tell he's strong but she feels that it would be an even fight if they were to get at it.

"I have no knowledge of any others." Sherlock says glaring at Hamish while starting to grit his teeth.

"Play nice," John says looking at Sherlock, knowing that if he let's them get into this conversation, Sherlock wouldn't sleep for days until he found the other consulting detective."There aren't any other consulting detectives, you researched this a month ago."

"You never know how much changes in a month." Hamish smirks taking a sip of her tea flavored sugar. She really enjoyed watching Sherlock squirm.

"Stop it, Hamish." John says in his best 'dad' voice.

"Sorry sir." Hamish replies, not wanting to anger John.

'For a girl who was abused she sure likes to push peoples buttons' Greg thinks to himself, finishing his tea. "Well I got to get going, my lunch break is almost over." Greg says standing and grabbing his coat. "I'll bring your gift when I get off of work." Greg says to Hamish.

"I'll see you out," John says walking next to Greg to the outside door. "Are you buying her gifts for her favoritism?" John jokingly asks when they reached Greg's car.

"No, she was worried in the car, thinking that you would hurt her," when those words left Greg's mouth, Johns face flashed a mixture of hurt and fear.

"You know I would never lay a hand on her that way," John says looking at Greg.

"I know that, but she doesn't, she was just scared, you can tell by the way she flinches when you move quickly. She has been hit in the past, terribly abused." Greg explains "I've seen it in the past with foster kids who got into trouble, sometimes for them, just having a safety line, even if they would never use it. Makes them feel safe."

"So you just want her to feel safe? What are you getting her anyways?" John asks.

"Just a cellphone, probably an Iphone, so she'll be able to keep in touch, and be able to call you, Sherlock, Mycroft or I, if there is any trouble." Greg answers, "I have to get going, now make sure..."

BOOM! An explosion echos from the flat.

"SHIT!" Greg and John both yell running back into the flat.

John gets there first and the sight he sees shocks him and slightly frightens him. Sherlock is sitting at his chair looking like a crazed scientist. His hair is sticking up everywhere, more pronounced then normal, and he has soot all over his face and chest. Hamish isn't much better, her normally sandy blonde hair is charcoal black and her face is also covered in soot, and yet she was laughing her ass off.

"What happened? Are you okay? Sherlock! What the hell did you do?" John yells, running over to Sherlock to check for injuries, when positive he wasn't hurt John moves over to check on Hamish.

"Well, obviously there was an explosion. We both are okay, and it was Hamish's idea." Sherlock answers.

"Whoa! It was _not_ my idea, I only suggested it." Hamish says defending herself.

"Sherlock, you can't do this, a social worker will do random checks here for the next eight months when Hamish becomes a citizen. She could be taken away from you." Greg says trying to hid his budding anger.

"Oh," Sherlock and Hamish both say, their faces falling go show their regret. Greg is astonished at how much alike these two are already.

"Well now you both know that so please try to behave yourselves." Greg says his anger slowly ebbing away.

"Thank you for everything Greg," Hamish says hoping Greg will forgive her. "I'm really sorry for scaring you."

"It's okay Hamish just, no more explosions please?" Greg asks feeling bad for being angry, "I have to get going, John, I'll see you later today. Sherlock... don't cause any more explosions." Greg says heading back downstairs for the second time that day.

* * *

As Greg left John was left standing in front of a semi-ruined kitchen, and two soot covered geniuses.

"I'm going to take a shower," Sherlock announced standing up and walking next to John, "you could join me," he whispered in John's ear. Sherlock had never seen John turn this bright red before, not even when Greg walked in on them.

"Go take your shower, I'm going to start cleaning the kitchen." John says, feeling his face turn beat red.

"I'll help clean," Hamish offers getting up from where she was sitting, her laughter completely gone, well until she saw Johns face turn red. 'I wonder... no I don't' she thinks

"Okay, then when Sherlock gets out of the shower, you can clean up." John says smiling, as he hid a giggle. Hamish looked like she was in an explosion to put it simply, her hair was sticking up in all different places, and her face was covered in soot. There's some slight bruising on her face, but that looked old, 'wonder what that is from?' John thinks.

"Sorry about the explosion, I didn't think that it would be that loud." Hamish says, at hearing this Sherlock grunts from where he was standing in the doorway and walks to the shower.

"Its okay," John says laughing at Sherlock. "There are rags in the top drawer."

"Um..." Hamish says opening the drawer and pulling out a bottle of Watermelon flavored lube "If I'm going to be living here can you hide these things a bit better?" Hamish says moving so John could see what she was holding.

John could feel his face go bright red. "Oh god," he yells covering his face with his hands " I am so sorry, I swear this won't happen again" John says absentmindedly cleaning the stove.

"Oh its okay, I just don't want to see it." Hamish says smiling and putting the lube away and grabbing a rag and starts to clean off the table.

* * *

Two lovely months later

Hamish had enjoyed the first two months with John and Sherlock. Greg had brought over her phone, which turned out to be an IPhone 3 Hamish was shocked at this. In these two months Hamish had found out that John was very protective of her. Hamish also found out that she was just as equally protective over John and Sherlock. How she found this out, well she was walking and overheard a couple of guys talking about John and Sherlock. One guy said how they were dating and another commented that 'all fags should die.' Let's just say that, the man who said this got a broken nose and told to 'not comment on her dads like that ever again.'. Oh that is also how Hamish started calling Sherlock dads. Right now John and Sherlock had been arguing over every little thing. Hamish had enough of being locked in the same house with them. So she went out to grab some milk and little supplies that John was to embarrassed to buy for her. She was walking back to the flat when she ran into Mrs. Hudson.

"Oh, hello dear, I'm heading out to a friends house, are John and Sherlock okay? Are they in the middle of a domestic?"

"They're just getting all the anger from the case out of their systems." Hamish says smiling, they were about two blocks away from the flat, but Hamish really wanted to get inside, she wasn't used to the British weather yet and she was freezing.

"Oh okay, just be careful...oh look at the time, I must be going." Mrs. Hudson says glancing at her watch.

"Well get going then, I don't want you to be late," Hamish says smiling. She watched Mrs. Hudson bustle away before starting to walk again. One thing Mrs. Hudson said was bugging her though, 'be careful' what could she have meant by that? Hamish thought about this until she reached the Flat, she just shook it off as she unlocked the outside door. She was in her own little world until she opened the door to the flat.

"Sher~~~" She hears John say, she didn't realize until she opened the door fully that it wasn't John's normal yelling. She opened the door with some difficulty because of the bags in her hand, and she saw something she never wanted to see again. Sherlock and John were butt naked against their door. Johns legs were wrapped around Sherlock's waist and his eyes were closed in pleasure, Sherlock looked like he was having a seizure by the way his body was pounding into Johns. Hamish just put down the groceries next to the door and closed it and walked outside. She pulled out the phone that Greg brought her the first day. She punched in Greg's number but couldn't make herself hit send. Today was his day off, he was probably spending it with Mycroft. She really didn't want to ruin his day. She put the phone away and walked back towards the cemetery. She hadn't visited her mother in a while.

She walked the short distance to her mother's gravestone. The murder was never found but they released the body for it to be buried. The gravestone was small and plain, nothing flashy. Just a slab.

"Hey mom," Hamish says when she reached the stone. "Sorry I haven't visited in awhile, I've been busy." Hamish says, she can feel her eyes start to water. "I miss you, I know that you were already close to dying but," Hamish cokes out before bursting into tears, the tears that she didn't cry when her mom was tortured in front of her before they murdered her, tears that wouldn't come at her mothers funeral three weeks after the murder, tears that wouldn't fall when John tried to talk to her about how many times her mother's boyfriends beat her, tears that had been waiting two months to come out. So Hamish sat down in front of her mothers gravestone, on top of where her casket was laying rotting six feet below her, and bawled her eyes out, she just sat there and cried.

"Are you okay?" She hears a males voice ask. "You look cold,"

"I'm okay,"Hamish says, wiping her tears away before looking up.

"Okay, I've come to pick you up for Mycroft," he says smiling.

"Why can he not come and get me himself?" Hamish asks standing up and walking with the man to a limo, where anthea is standing.

"He's a busy man." The man replies vaguely, he opens the door for Hamish. He closes the door and gets in the drivers seat.

"Hi Anthea," Hamish says to Mycrofts personal assistant. She nods her head with out looking up, still clicking away on her phone. "Texting Mycroft everything I say? I assume," Hamish says a faint smile on her lips. Anthea nods again. "Has he finally man up enough to propose to Greg?" Hamish asks. This gets a look from Anthea. Hamish sighs and goes to looking out the window.

* * *

Hey I just wanna say thank you to all of you's who have favorited this, so... **THANK YOU!** I understand that there hasn't been much smutty goodness, it will come later. I'm not too good at going into much detail but I will try my best in later chapters. :) I also have a little request. I don't exactly know where to go with this lovely cliff hanger. So if you guys have any ideas, please tell me, because I have none.


	5. Chapter 5: Hamish is scarred for life

"He's inside," Anthea says once the car has stopped. Hamish smiles at Anthea before going inside an abandoned building.  
"Hello," Hamish calls out smiling at the echo, she sees no one so she continues to walk around. She comes to the middle of the room and starts turning in circles.  
"Hello," Mycroft says stepping out from nowhere  
"Ah! God damn it Mycroft, you scared me!" Hamish yells turning around.  
"Yes, I assume you figured you why I called you here," Mycroft says looking at Hamish and raising an eyebrow.  
"Your pregnant? Awww." Hamish says sarcastically patting Mycroft's stomach.  
Mycroft raises an eyebrow and moves Hamish's hand away from his stomach. "You know that isn't biologically possible,"  
Hamish sighed, "you ruin my fun," she says sheepishly. "So how do you plan on proposing?"  
"I have a few ideas, I want it nice and simple," he says his face not changing expression, "I know he likes being romantic,"  
"What ways have you thought about so far?" Hamish asks.  
"A nice dinner, getting a personal chef to cook for us and then,"  
"No, no. Do you not have a romantic bone in your body?" Hamish interrupts him. Earning a glare from Mycroft. "Cook the dinner yourself, and don't say you don't know how, I know your mother taught you, and maybe put the ring in the bottom of his drink...what?" Hamish says at the face Mycroft gave her.  
"I am not putting the ring I brought him in a drink, the only places this ring will be is going from the box to his finger," Mycroft says simply.  
"Fine," Hamish pouts, a few of Sherlocks traits had rubbed off on her. "Once you get to desert, like _eating_ dessert not the other kind," Hamish watches a faint smile appear on Mycroft's lips. "Get down on a knee and propose."  
"Isn't that... cliché?" Mycroft asks. "I want it to be original.  
Hamish just looks at him with her best you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me face. "You love him right?"  
"Yes,"  
"You'd do anything for him, right?"  
"If it was within my power, yes."  
"Then does it freakin matter if it's cliché?"  
"Yes, I want it to be special." Hamish just sighs at this.  
"Fine, where did you two meet," Hamish says voicing her thoughts.  
"At the hospital when Sherlock overdosed on cocaine." Mycroft replies,  
"Sherlock did drugs?" Hamish asks shocked.  
"Yes, now I see where you're going and I don't see a hospital being romantic." Mycroft says oblivious to Hamish's shocked expression.  
"Oh... um, yeah. How about where your first date was at?"  
"The place shut down." Mycroft answers.  
"First kiss?"  
"My place, not romantic enough."  
"Sheesh, how about..." Hamish says biting her lip as she thinks, "how about... wait, did you get permission from his kids?" Hamish asks a sudden idea springing to her mind.  
"Why would I do that?" Mycroft asks confused.  
"Well don't you want to be sure his kids are okay with having you as a step-dad." Hamish says looking at Mycroft's confused expression. "Okay, if Sherlock were to propose to John, which I have been hinting at for the past two days, I would like him to ask me," Hamish tries to explain.  
"You already call him dads, and you all live in the same house, what difference would it make?" Mycroft asks.  
"Quit being so logical and start being.. oh I don't know, romantic!"  
"I do not see why you're so angry?" Mycroft says. This causes Hamish to take a few deep breaths and look at him.  
"I am getting angry because one: I was with my mother, now I know you don't get the importance of sitting by a slate of stone, but there is one. Two: because you are being so difficult, you drag, _drag_ me here," Mycroft opens his mouth like he's about to say something "and don't deny that if I wouldn't have come willingly you would've had one of your men drug me and bring me here. Okay. Three: I'm sure no matter what you do Greg will love it and say yes." Hamish says trying to keep her cool the whole time.  
"Okay..." there was a long silence after that, Hamish is trying to calm down and Mycroft is trying to find a romantic way to propose. He doesn't see the point in this, but he feels Greg would enjoy it. He would much rather just get Greg to sign the marriage papers and that be that.  
"Get one of his kids, how old are they?" Hamish finally speaks.  
"Joey is fifteen and May is twelve." Mycroft says.  
"Wow, there that old? I was expecting like, six and ten. Okay um... scratch that plan. How about, on one of the weeks you don't have them, you could get ton of balloons...and...no?" Hamish says as Mycroft's face goes from one of interest to one of like pain. "No balloons?"  
"No, they are loud and annoying." Mycroft states.  
"Okay, fine. What were you planning?"  
"To give him the marriage papers so we would be married without all of the hassle." Mycroft states, watching Hamish start to chuckle.  
"Don't know why I didn't expect that from you." She says smiling. "How about you just... Ask him what he wants?"  
"Isn't it supposed to be a surprise?" Mycroft asks confused.  
"Yeah, but that's with normal people, you two aren't normal." Hamish says watching Mycroft, "just ask him. Can I leave now?" Hamish asks. *bring* Hamish's phone went off. "Hello?" Hamish says answering her phone. "Dad, I'm fine... With Mycroft... yeah...I'm fine, really... Yeah... no need to apologize, but come on the door was right behind you!... how about a little code word?... rabbit? No? Not rabbit?... Skull?...Stars? I like that, okay I'll be home soon. Love you." Hamish smiles as she hangs up her phone, "Sorry about that,"  
"No need to apologize, I'll get Anthea to bring you home," Mycroft says pulling out his phone and texting someone, Anthea no doubt.  
"Thanks, is she waiting outside?" Hamish's asks looking at the door she came in,  
"Yep, I will contact you tomorrow on how it went." Mycroft says.  
"Okay," Hamish says smiling, "oh random thought..."  
"If we ever plan on getting a child, no we will not name it after you." Mycroft says not letting Hamish finish her sentence,  
"Not even..."  
"No," Mycroft says, turning around. "Would you like to meet Gregs kids?" Mycroft asks.  
"Um.." Hamish says surprised by the question. "Sure, I would love to,"  
"Okay, good." He says walking towards a hidden door.  
Hamish smiled and walked back towards the door she came in. When her eyes adjusted to the sun, well overcast, Hamish spotted Anthea and went to the car. She got in with Anthea sliding in behind her.  
"Your boss will be a very happy man soon." Hamish says smiling at Anthea. No reply. Hamish shut up for a few minutes. 'She isn't married, well except to her work, and'  
"Stop deducing me," Anthea says not looking up from her phone.  
"Sorry, how... eh never mind." Hamish says looking out the window.  
~~~~~~~~ Johns POV  
"Dad? Dads?" I hear Hamish call out.  
"In here," I respond looking up from the newspaper, Sherlock had gone out after... Y'know, and now I was waiting for my tea to boil. "Would you want some tea?" I ask as Hamish plops down in the seat next to me.  
"Yeah, that would be lovely," she says smiling. She has gained a bit of much needed weight but was still an at-risk anemic child.  
"So..." I start looking at her, she's wearing a black hoodie, with blue flare jeans and her combat boots. "Why did Mycroft kidnap you?" I really didn't want to bring up what she might or might not have saw.  
"Oh, he plans on proposing to Greg, hint hint, wink wink." She says looking at me and smiling.  
"Why do you think that Sherlock and I should get married?" I sigh, she has been hinting at this for weeks, to both of us.  
"Because..." she drawls out her american accent making it sound a bit weird. "You both love each other and hell, even I know that Sherlock isn't going to be with anyone but you." She says staring at me. I sigh as I prepare our tea and sit down across from her sliding her, her tea and the sugar bag. "Thanks," Hamish answers and proceeds to dump half the bag of sugar into her tea.  
"Don't swear, and go easy on the sugar there." I sigh taking the bag away before it disappears  
"Meh," she says smiling and sticking her tongue out at me.  
"Mature," I respond.  
"Really?" She asks smirking and raising an eyebrow at me "you're dating Sherlock, he's older then me, and less mature."  
"Shuttup," I smile. "So, you still haven't told me much about yourself,"  
"I thought Sherlock deduced it all already and told you," she says trying to grab the sugar from me.  
"No," I say moving the sugar further away, "and Sherlock wants you to tell me personally." I say smiling.  
"Please, the tea is bitter," she says looking at me with puppy dog eyes,  
"No, now tell me about yourself." I say swatting her hand away, once again, from the sugar, resulting in her sticking her tongue out at me once more.  
"Not much to tell, my favorite color is teal, I graduated school at thirteen and lived in foster care for some time." She says trying, and failing to sneak the sugar.  
"Tell me about foster care." I say getting up and putting the sugar away.  
"Not much to tell." She says looking at her tea, trying to avoid eye contact.  
"Hamish," I say softly grabbing her hand, "its okay, they won't hurt you, and if anyone does, trust me they will have hell to pay." I promise.  
"I don't see why you need to know, that's in the past. It has nothing to do with now." She states, pulling her hand away and glaring at her tea.  
"Hamish. Please I want to know what happened. I know they hurt you, trust me talking about it helps." "It really wasn't anything, it doesn't matter," she repeats, looking around the kitchen and trying to avoid all eye contact  
"Please? I want to know you. Everything about you," I try.  
Hamish sighs, tears her glare away from the tea and looks at me, searching my eyes, no doubt looking to see if what I say is true. "Everything?" She asks.  
"Everything, that any dad should know," I answer.  
Hamish sighs once more and starts speaking "the first home I went to was... nice, a cozy cottage, three other people living there other then me. Adam and Pat were my foster parents, they were nice, Joey, their son, was an ass. He was sixteen, and just, just rude and obnoxious. He would make fun of me for being a foster kid, kept saying that I deserved everything I got. I really wanted to stay with this family but...Joey made my life hell. So, one day I, I snapped, beat the shit outta him. He thought he would be able to take me, but he thought wrong. I broke his nose, and three ribs, dislocated his jaw and elbow. His parents were terrified that I did that; they didn't even bother to listen to my side of the story, just called my social worker and got rid of me. Chucked everything I had into a trash bag and sent me away. Now I regret hitting Joey. They were the nicest to me, it only went downhill from there." Hamish stops and looks at me, seeing if I was listening or just using her as background noise. Her eyes held something I haven't seen in them before; vulnerability.  
"I would've congratulated you on beating the shit outta him, seems like a bag of dicks." I say, motioning her to continue.  
"Thanks, um... well the next foster home was worse..." she says.  
I see tears forming in her eyes. "If you don't want to continue, we won't," I say feeling terrible that I made her bring up bad memories.  
"No, no its fine," she replies hastily wiping at the tears, "You're right its time for me to get all of this out before I explode," she grabs my hand and smiles reassuringly, "I'm fine, dad. I promise."  
"If your sure, okay." I respond, nodding letting her continue.  
"Okay, the second foster home, it looked like a normal family on the outside. Skinny happy mom, buff dad who made a lot of money, and three foster kids that just looked happy, but if you were to look on the inside of the family... it was anything but nice. I was the oldest foster kid there, the other two were eight and ten. They both were so amazing and well behaved, brothers too. I felt like I had to protect them... anyway, the dad was a raging drunk, the mom, sick of the abuse she was getting would beat us in return, terrible cycle. One time though... the wife, Sissy, wasn't home when George, the dad came home drunk. The boys were eating dinner, I was cleaning up and... the youngest broke a glass, complete accident, he didn't mean to. George, he wouldn't listen to any of it. He tried to hit the youngest, his brother pushed him outta the way and took the hit himself. George got angry, I, I didn't think I just pushed George away from the boys and took them and locked them in the closet. George followed right behind me, pushed me outta the way and tried to open the closet, thank god he was to drunk, couldn't unlock it. Turned to me instead. He..." tears were now streaming down her face, but she didn't stop, "he, started to beat me, broke all but two of my ribs, knocked out my three remaining baby teeth, and... gave me a concussion. I don't remember what happened next but the boys told me that he passed out an hour later and they called the police and an ambulance to help me,George and Sissy got thrown in jail for child abuse and are never allowed to be near children again."  
"Hamish," I say sadness eating me up "I'm so sorry, I wish I had known you, I would've never let this happen."  
Hamish smiles at me and responds "yeah but if you were there, you would've never met Sherlock, the love of your life might I add." Even when she was crying she could still poke fun at me.  
I couldn't help but smile, "okay, fine. I'm actually planning on proposing to him next week!happy?" I get out.  
"Oh," she says her face falling. " next week, er... I'm busy, could you move that to two weeks time?" She says a faint smile playing on her lips. She had stopped crying but her eyes were red.  
"What is wrong with you?" I joke.  
"Well, I am half of you. So that does explain a lot right there." She teases.  
"Oi! Rude, you obviously got your oddness from your mother." I joke back seeing her smile wide at the banter.  
"No, mom was pretty sane. So that leaves one person. Now I'm not saying names but...dads home." I swear she had ADD some days. Might want to get her checked for that. I think before I hear the door slam and a very bloody Sherlock comes into the house.  
"What happened?" I exclaim, I really should be used to this.  
"Get your period on the bus?" Hamish shoots out getting a sneer from Sherlock.  
"Got a case from Mycroft. Finished it, very boring." He explains...well not really. All I can do is sigh, "go get cleaned up." I say rubbing my head.  
"Only if you'll join me," Sherlock says winking earning a groan from Hamish,  
"If you two are gonna go at it, please put a sock or something on the door!" She exclaims getting a smirk from Sherlock.  
"Wasn't-" Sherlock starts before Hamish interrupts.  
"Continue that sentence I will go and live with Molly until I die," she says pointing at Sherlock.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey I wanna say sorry for not updating for...two months, I am terribly sorry, I should be able to update more regularly now that it is summer here. If not I am truly sorry. As usual reviews are helpful and awesome. :)


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